The Essay
by HersheyChocolates101
Summary: "We're like fire and ice. We're different, yet we match without hesitation." Village Square entry: Fire and Ice.


"Remember, class," said the teacher as the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. "I want you all to have a parent read your essay and sign it," Mr. Hamilton, also known as Gill, continued. He smiled slightly and dismissed the students, who happily bounced out of the school, their small feet thudding the creaky wooden floor.

Angie's footsteps were perhaps the quietest of all as she thoughtfully strolled into the autumn sunshine, essay paper clutched in hand. Mr. Hamilton had been known to be a grump but after marrying the lady at the tailor's shop, he'd grown to become a lot nicer and friendly.

Angie smiled at the thought. What would Vivian be like if her father hadn't changed?

She turned left and headed down the small slope path (as her father referred to it) towards Harmonica Town's bridge, where Matt was fishing and humming a small tune to himself.

"Hi, Angie! Wanna go fishing with me?" the chestnut haired boy asked cheerfully. With a grin, he added, "There's an awful lotta fish around here!"

Angie smiled politely, although she was disappointed in herself. How could she refuse such a kind invitation? But her mother had to see her essay, and there was still quite a distance left to cover. "I'm sorry, Matt, but I have to be home soon. Maybe next time?" she asked hopefully, wishing that Matt wouldn't be sad.

The boy wasn't upset in the least. He smiled anyhow. "Oh that's alright! See ya' next time!"

"Bye," Angie said and continued her walk towards the Flute Fields.

She passed the local farm, which was bursting with colorful vegetables and fruits, and had animals covering every square inch of grass. Kasey, the farmer, energetically watered a patch of sweet potatoes. He took notice of Angie and waved at her before returning his attention to the crops, which were beginning to be eaten by a cow. The farmer scolded the cow somewhat playfully with a humorous expression, making Angie laugh a little.

She proceeded along the path, half walking and half skipping for a little bit of speed without tripping and falling like a klutz, as Lucy would have said.

Finally, the enormous Flute Fields came into view. Angie took in the site of Marimba Farm, where Van was sitting and reading a book, and Horn Ranch, where Matt's grandpa Cain was brushing a chocolate brown horse. Then of course, there was her own house.

She galloped optimistically towards the door. The fresh fragrance of pumpkin pie easily could have wafted miles; bringing an abundance of appetite to the villagers in the procedure. A window was pushed open, allowing a friendly steam to escape the house.

Ah, home. It was always heartening for Angie to know that the safest and most comforting place was nearby at a reachable distance. She strolled through the entrance, which was open slightly, and trailed in. Her mother, Candace, was just opening the oven and taking out a scrumptious pumpkin pie, its crust crispy, only to cover a yummy filling.

"Mommy, I'm home," Angie announced in her soft and delicate voice. Candace looked up and smiled happily.

"Hi, Angie. How was your day at school? Is that an essay your teacher wants me to read?"

"It was nice," Angie commented. "And, yes, this is our essay that Mr. Hamilton wants you to read and sign."

Candace took the loosely creased paper from her purple haired daughter's hand and smiled at the neat hand writing. "My Parents," she read aloud, looking at the title.

"Sweetie, why don't you go out and play?" she questioned, eyeing the paper clutched in her thin hand. "It is a nice day to be outside."

Angie grinned, knowing where to go. "Okay, Mommy!" Delightfully, she dashed back outside, leaving her mother alone.

"Candace, dear! Which shirt do you think is better? Frayed or-"

"Julius! Come look at this!" Candace called, not caring much that she interrupted her husband. The paper was a much bigger concern at the present moment.

"What is it?" Julius asked, leisurely walking into the main room. He twirled his long and purple stylish hair, peered over his wife's petite shoulder and began to read the paper mutely along as Candace read it aloud.

_My Parents_

_I have two amazing parents. My daddy's name is Julius and my mommy's name is Candace. The best thing about my parents is that even if they're different in so many ways, they never fight. My mommy and daddy are like fire and ice._

_My daddy is like fire. He's warm and kind. He loves to spread his word quickly, just like how a fire spreads its bursting flames. My daddy can also seem quite bad, like a fire. But the truth is that he is the nicest daddy in the world. My daddy is flamboyant. The word "flamboyant" has part of the word "flame". See? My daddy is like fire._

_My mommy is different, though. She isn't like fire. She is like ice. At first, my mommy can be shy, and she doesn't change, just like ice. But when she warms up, she is nice and she smiles. When ice warms up, it melts into a nice little puddle of water. My mommy even wears the color blue! See, she's just like ice; cold at first, but then gets nice and warm._

_I have the best mommy and daddy ever._

Candace dabbed at her tearful eyes with the edge of her sweater sleeve. "Oh my, Julius," she whispered. "It's beautiful…she thinks of **us** like this…? I knew she loved us but…"

Julius smiled broadly at the paper he'd just read. Who would have known that his daughter was such an amazing writer? He pulled his now crying wife into a tight hug.

"I'm so proud of our girl…" he murmured, stroking Candace's hair tenderly. The blue haired woman looked up at him.

"But she was right…"

"What do you mean?" Julius asked.

"She's right. We're like fire and ice. We're different, yet we match without hesitation."

**A/N: I hoped this was creative to whoever is reading this. I think it's good enough for my personal standards. Best spark of inspiration that I've ever had! Thanks for reading! If you liked the slight Candace/Julius check out my other oneshot on my profile about them.**

**-Hershey-**


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